The Leak
by PixieKayGirl
Summary: Janeway's depression is back. Two-perspective story, one chapter from Janeway and the other from Chakotay. Sequel to my previous story "In the Darkness." J/C. Teen rating only because of dealing with depression, or it'd be K .
1. Broken

_A/N Sequel to my one-shot "In the Darkness." You can read this one individually, but the first one explains her history of why she's dealing with this, if you're interested. I'd always intended that to be a stand-alone story, but I guess when I get back to my own dark places, it's easy to let it out by projecting it onto Janeway. And because of how I'm feeling right now, and because I already established that friends can help to some extent but no relationship is going to magically cure the depression, I wanted to make this one a bit more J/C. The second chapter is almost entirely the same story, but from his perspective so you can see what he was thinking, and with an extra scene at the end. If you don't feel like reading the same dialogue with a different perspective, I suggest at least skipping down to the final scene of Chakotay's version. At least, if you have any interest in the_ really _J/C stuff._

 _=/\=_

The tub was leaking.

After a long day of captaining her ship, defending them against the attacking alien _du jour_ , checking in on all the subsequent necessary repairs, keeping up with as many of the reports as she could, morosely walking through one corridor in particular that was dark and littered with debris not high enough priority for any teams to even get to it today, and checking in on the multitude of wounded in sickbay, all she'd wanted - needed, for the sake of some self-care to keep her from going back into the dark places she could feel herself spiraling toward - was a soak in a bubble bath. They were still facing three more days of significant repairs, assuming they didn't end up in another battle between now and then. So in the midst of that, was it so much to ask that in her brief downtime, she might soak away a few of the knots in her back?

But when she'd entered the bathroom, the tub was leaking.

She wasn't worried about water being wasted. The water would just drain into the reclamation unit, pass through it quickly since the essentially unused water wouldn't even require significant purifying, and then be back in the storage tanks ready for further use.

It was just that her ship was broken, and now when she thought she could relax, her tub was broken too. Sure, it'd still work. But it shouldn't be leaking. It shouldn't be broken.

Somehow, the sight of her bathtub faucet dripping was the particle that overloaded the warp core, as it were. She leaned back against the wall, pulling her towel and robe into a protective bundle at her chest, and slowly sank to the floor, not realizing that her eyes were also leaking until a drop landed on one finger. Somehow, the awareness of that drop was enough to open a torrential flood. She hugged the terrycloth anchor in her arms as sobs wracked her body.

Her communicator chirped. _Chakotay to Janeway._

She couldn't stop sobbing long enough to answer. She didn't know why. She'd done it before, innumerable times. Pull herself together, give a crisp and clear answer, return to her darkness when no one could witness it. But the sobs refused to pause today.

 _Commander Chakotay to Captain Janeway, please respond._

She had to give an answer or he'd alert other people. She shifted just enough to tap her comm badge and said as clearly as she could, "Go." She could hear the break in her voice, but hoped that one syllable would be little enough for him to hear it too.

There was a pause, then Chakotay's voice came back, cautiously, clearly trying to speak in code, which meant that he was apparently not alone. _Captain, is it dark there?_

She leaned her head back against the wall, somewhere between relief and despair. He knew, just from a single word over the comm. He could tell. She always trusted him not to tell anyone else, but still hated feeling so vulnerable as for him to know when it was bad. But he already knew, so she took a deep breath, and in a slightly steadier (albeit not actually steady) voice, replied, "Yes. An overload."

 _I'll be right there._

"No, Commander, there are more important things to see to -" she started. But he didn't answer and she knew he'd already closed the channel.

She wanted to get up. Wanted to look better when he came in, convince him that he really should be doing other things. But it just felt like too much, and he was there before she'd mustered the strength. She heard the doors woosh open, then a pause. She had to assume he was looking around the outer room for her.

"Kathryn?" he called out.

She wanted to call, "Here," so he could come in and find her. She wanted to get up and stride out with a smile so he wouldn't worry. She wanted to sink into the floor and hide so he'd think she'd left the room entirely. But she just couldn't seem to do anything at all.

She heard his footsteps enter her bedroom, slowly. Cautiously, she thought. He was entering a more private part of her life, something he wouldn't typically do.

"Kathryn?" he called again softly.

She must've made a slight noise. She doubted he'd ever come in the bathroom without even knocking first if she hadn't made some noise that indicated she was in there. But suddenly there were his feet in her door frame. She lifted her head, trailing her eyes up his body to look into his face, tears still streaking her cheeks. She gave a slight shrug, then said with what she hoped was some mirth, "The tub was leaking."

Somehow, this sent her over the edge again, and she was sobbing anew, with self-deprecating laughter intermingled. She felt so stupid, yet she just couldn't stop crying about that ridiculous and intensely minor little drip.

He sat next to her, barely fitting between the sink and her position against the side of the tub. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him, his other hand stroking her hair. At first she stiffened, then she relaxed against him. Her bundle fell to the floor as she turned in to him, resting her hands against his chest so they were trapped between their bodies. She sobbed into the front of his shoulder, ignoring the awkward way that her body was splayed out at this point. It didn't matter. She just needed to draw as much comfort from him as she could.

After minutes or hours, she really couldn't say, her sobs finally subsided, and her little gasping whimpers as well. He whispered into her hair, "Have you talked to the doctor?"

She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

"Will you?"

She shook her head again.

He pulled back a little. "Kathryn." She turned her face up toward his, not quite looking at him but at least indicating acknowledgment. "I care about you too much to just leave you like this, I hope you know that."

She shrugged. "You're the first officer," she muttered, cringing at the croaking voice that came out of her dry throat. "If you feel you must speak to the CMO about the captain's state, that's your prerogative."

He put two fingers under her chin and gently tipped her head up just a little more, until she felt she had to raise her eyes to look into his. She didn't see judgment, nor did she expect to see any. But she didn't see pity either, or disgust, or any of the myriad of other things she felt she should see from him right now. Instead, she saw only care, concern and . . . maybe a little more?

"I didn't say that the first officer was concerned about the captain. When on duty, or called unexpectedly to duty, you invariably manage to push all this aside and perform your duties exceptionally. I said that I, Chakotay, care too much about you, Kathryn, to leave you like this. The doctor may need to adjust your medicine again, and I know that when you're in a really dark place like this it's hard for you to care if he does or not. So if you won't go to him, I will. Because I love you too much not to."

Her breath caught for just a moment. _Love_. Love as a friend? That must be what he meant. Then she looked away. It didn't matter which kind he meant. "You shouldn't. I'm not worth the pain and aggravation."

"You are."

She stared at the faucet. _Drip. Drip. Drip._

"I'm not. I . . . I can't be." He said nothing, apparently waiting for her to continue as he hugged her a little tighter again, but she just watched the faucet. _Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip._

Finally, when he still said nothing, she whispered, "In the . . . the good times . . . the ones when I can barely remember feeling like this . . . sometimes I think I could be. But the darkness always comes again. The doctor can't stop it from coming again. And you . . . no kind of love can stop it from coming again. It always returns."

"It doesn't matter."

She furrowed her brow a little, almost getting angry. "Of course it matters. You . . . Chakotay, you deserve someone who can give to you as much as you give to them. You deserve -" She stopped herself suddenly, clamping her mouth shut, realizing how close her words came to assuming exactly which kind of love he'd meant, and what he wanted to do about it.

He stroked a hair back from her face and rested his hand on her cheek, not applying any pressure to try to guide her to look at him, just touching her. "You give me more than you know. You give me everything. If giving you comfort when you need it is some small bit that I can return to you, I will do that."

She turned her eyes back to his, feeling her own grow wide as the implication of his words sank in.

"I love you," he said again, softly, and this time there was no mistaking exactly which way he meant it. "In whatever way you need or want me to, in whatever way you will let me, I will always love you."

She couldn't speak. She couldn't answer. She wanted to give herself to his love, but there was a lump in her throat, not from his words, but from the darkness. It extended down and enveloped her chest, blocking out the benefits of his words. She knew that she loved him too, had loved him for a very long time, but something cold and dark was swallowing up the love he poured into her. "How could you?" she finally asked softly. "How could you love someone with such darkness? How could you love me when I'm so . . . so broken?"

"You're not broken," he whispered. "But even if you were, I would love you broken, whole, or anything in between."

"Then aren't you going to kiss me?" Kathryn, the real Kathryn hidden deep inside, was at war with the darkness. Somehow, foolishly, with a romanticism that she hadn't allowed to the surface since sometime within the first year of their journey, she fleetingly thought that maybe if he kissed her the real Kathryn could vanquish the darkness. Like a fairy tale.

But he shook his head. "Not while you're like this. Not because I don't want to, but because I know it won't fix your pain, and I know you're reaching for any comfort you can have. But if you'll come with me to the doctor, let him adjust your medication, and then spend a little bit of time just talking to someone - me, the doctor, or Tuvok, unless you know someone who would be a better help - then once you're back to yourself I promise I will kiss you as much as you want. And if you still want me to kiss you then, when you're feeling better, then after that I will kiss you whenever you want, even if the darkness comes again. Deal?"

She smiled a little, even though it didn't seem to entirely match her internal feelings. "Deal."

He rose to his feet and offered her a hand, which she gladly accepted, unsure if she could even stand after sitting there so awkwardly for so long. On her way up, she braced her hand against the sink, and with the lean that came with that, caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Ugh. It wouldn't do for the crew to see her walking the corridors like this. "Um, let me get cleaned up just a little before I go to sickbay."

He smiled back, looking much more genuine in his smile than she felt with her own. "Okay. I'll wait in the other room."

"Shouldn't you be returning to more important matters, Commander?" she asked, trying to sound light and calm even though she didn't feel it.

"There are no more important matters than you. But if you're referring to the repairs on the ship, Tuvok is overseeing everything and B'Elanna has it all under control. And before you ask, the doctor finished fixing up Ensign Baytart about twenty minutes before I came in here, and he was the last of the casualties, so he should have plenty of time for you. I'll see you there, and then it's up to you if you want me to stay or not."

She smiled a little again. He always took such good care of her. No matter what he said, she knew she didn't deserve him. "Okay. Just give me a minute."

He nodded and left the room. She washed her face, reapplied a little makeup to disguise the paleness and circles that were proof of her breakdown, and combed her hair. With a deep breath, she headed out, and found him waiting. He lifted one arm, and she looped hers through it, her heart beating a little faster. She wasn't okay yet, but at least she wasn't immune to his effect on her either.

Arm-in-arm they walked to sickbay. She didn't know it yet, but after the doctor ran some tests and adjusted her morning hypospray accordingly, she would return to her quarters to find the leak fixed, despite everything else that still needed repairs on her ship. And though she still wouldn't be all the way better yet, she would know that somehow, all together, knowingly or unknowingly, her Voyager family would see her through the darkness, and eventually, she would be okay again.


	2. Whole

Even though she only said one word - "Go -" he heard the crack in her voice, and he knew it wasn't the because of any comm system malfunction.

He hesitated, avoiding glancing at the people standing on the bridge with him, trying to decide how to verify what he'd heard without any of them catching on. Finally, he just asked, "Captain, is it dark there?"

He heard a slight, shuddery breath that he hoped no one could overhear, before she replied in a voice that was steady enough it could have fooled almost anyone else. _Yes. An overload._

"I'll be right there. Chakotay out." Depending on just how bad she was this time, she might have tried to argue the point, or she might not have had the strength to say anything more. He hadn't wanted to risk it, though, so he'd closed the channel before she had a chance to say a word.

"Tuvok, you have the bridge. I may be a little while, so I'm putting you in charge of overseeing repairs until I or the captain return to take over. Coordinate with B'Elanna, and contact me only if you absolutely have to. No one is to disturb the captain without my express permission." He finished these last words just as the turbolift doors closed behind him.

The turbolifts seemed far to slow, even though it was really less than a minute later when he arrived at her door. He considered pressing the chime, but even knowing he was coming she might not let him in, so he entered his personal override code and entered without asking permission.

She was nowhere to be seen. Her quarters, though in low lighting, were almost entirely as they always were. "Computer, location of Captain Janeway," he said softly, not wanting to sound like a fool if she was right there.

 _Captain Janeway is in her quarters,_ came back the disembodied voice.

So she was here somewhere. "Kathryn?" he called out softly. No answer. He hesitated another moment before he walked into her bedroom, hoping she was decent. But she was nowhere to be seen.

"Kathryn?" he called again softly.

From the bathroom, he heard a soft sob, barely more than a squeak. He walked over cautiously, hoping against hope that she was fully dressed in there. He needn't have worried. She was sitting next to the tub, still in uniform, clutching a bundle of what appeared to be towels or maybe a terry cloth robe, her face streaked with tears. She tried to smile as she said, by way of explanation, "The tub was leaking." Then, inexplicably, she started to sob uncontrollably, choked laughter somehow escaping amidst the sobs. But there was no humor in the laughter. If anything it sounded forced, as though somehow, if she could get laughs out, he would think the sobbing meant nothing.

So he did the only thing he could do - sat next to her, squishing his frame between hers and the sink, hoping he wasn't pushing her too hard against the side of the tub. He pulled her to him, rubbing her back, stroking her hair, and just held her. He knew from past experience that when she felt like this, being held was often what she needed. It never fixed it, but it was all he could do. In the past, she'd tried to get him not to hold her, tried to insist that it wasn't appropriate. But this time she turned toward him, pressing her face into his shoulder and trapping her hands between their bodies.

They sat like this for several minutes, his hands stroking her hair and rubbing her back. Once, then again, then a third time over the several minutes, he pressed a kiss into her hair. He didn't even know if she'd known he'd done it. He wondered at himself for it - was he comforting her, or taking advantage of her pain?

When her sobs finally subsided, he whispered, "Have you talked to the doctor?"

Beneath his chin, he felt her head shake out a "no."

"Will you?"

Another shake of her head.

He pulled back a little to look down at her. "Kathryn." She tilted her head up a little but didn't actually look at him. "I care about you too much to just leave you like this, I hope you know that."

She shrugged. "You're the first officer," she muttered, and he winced at the despair in her voice. "If you feel you must speak to the CMO about the captain's state, that's your prerogative."

She didn't understand. Or was choosing not to. He put two fingers under her chin and tilted gently, hoping he wasn't pushing too far, hoping he could help her understand her own worth without pushing her away or destroying her trust in him. She flicked her eyes up to his and he took a breath before continuing.

"I didn't say that the first officer was concerned about the captain. When on duty, or called unexpectedly to duty, you invariably manage to push all this aside and perform your duties exceptionally. I said that I, Chakotay, care too much about you, Kathryn, to leave you like this." He took another deep breath, but she wasn't pulling away, wasn't telling him to stop caring, so he continued. "The doctor may need to adjust your medicine again, and I know that when you're in a really dark place like this it's hard for you to care if he does or not. So if you won't go to him, I will. Because I love you too much not to."

He tensed up at the same time that he heard her own breath catch briefly. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd intended to say he cared too much. She'd never really wanted to know that he loved her, and he was supposed to be helping her not adding to her troubles.

But before he could backtrack to lie and claim he'd meant platonic love, she flicked her gaze away and murmured, "You shouldn't. I'm not worth the pain and aggravation."

"You are." The words were out almost before he'd realized it, but this time he had no intention of backtracking. She was, she was absolutely worth it and he certainly wouldn't leave her in any belief that she wasn't worth the universe and more.

She stared away from him, and he followed her gaze to the inexplicably offensive dripping faucet. He only barely heard her as she whispered, "I'm not. I . . . I can't be." Something in her tone sounded like she had more to say, so he just hugged her tighter and waited for a minute, maybe two, until she spoke again. "In the . . . the good times . . . the ones when I can barely remember feeling like this . . . sometimes I think I could be. But the darkness always comes again. The doctor can't stop it from coming again. And you . . . no kind of love can stop it from coming again. It always returns."

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. You . . . Chakotay, you deserve someone who can give to you as much as you give to them. You deserve -" She stopped suddenly, maybe regretting what she'd said. He tried to tamp down his own excitement at her words. She hadn't denied his love, but had all but confessed her own instead! But she was hurting and vulnerable, and he wouldn't base a relationship on what someone said when hurting and vulnerable.

So instead, he stroked a hair back from her face and rested his hand on her cheek, speaking as gently as he could manage. "You give me more than you know. You give me everything. If giving you comfort when you need it is some small bit that I can return to you, I will do that."

Her eyes fell back on his, wondering, widening. Heart pounding in his chest, he softly said again, "I love you. In whatever way you need or want me to, in whatever way you will let me, I will always love you."

She swallowed. "How could you?" she finally asked softly, and her words were despairing, but her face was still wondering, and open to him in a way he'd never seen before. Even when he'd held her through other dark times, she'd never been quite so open to him as at this moment. "How could you love someone with such darkness? How could you love me when I'm so . . . so broken?"

"You're not broken," he whispered. "But even if you were, I would love you broken, whole, or anything in between."

"Then aren't you going to kiss me?"

His breath caught for a moment, and he almost leaned in to do just that. But he would never take advantage of her pain that way. "Not while you're like this. Not because I don't want to," he quickly assured her, "but because I know it won't fix your pain, and I know you're reaching for any comfort you can have. But if you'll come with me to the doctor, let him adjust your medication, and then spend a little bit of time just talking to someone - me, the doctor, or Tuvok, unless you know someone who would be a better help - then once you're back to yourself I promise I will kiss you as much as you want." He saw a slight smile start, even though it seemed to have to fight its way to her face. "And if you still want me to kiss you then, when you're feeling better, then after that I will kiss you whenever you want, even if the darkness comes again. Deal?"

Her smile widened a little, shakily. "Deal."

He rose to his feet, trying not to limp as his right leg struggled to regain proper circulation, then reached down to offer her a hand.

She glanced past his shoulder toward the mirror, then said, "Um, let me get cleaned up just a little before I go to sickbay."

He smiled. Ever the captain, she would never let the crew see her less than perfect unless it was due to a situation that was tossing them all around. "Okay. I'll wait in the other room."

"Shouldn't you be returning to more important matters, Commander?" she asked lightly, though he could tell it was forced.

"There are no more important matters than you. But if you're referring to the repairs on the ship, Tuvok is overseeing everything and B'Elanna has it all under control. And before you ask, the doctor finished fixing up Ensign Baytart about twenty minutes before I came in here, and he was the last of the casualties, so he should have plenty of time for you. I'll see you there, and then it's up to you if you want me to stay or not."

She favored him with another small smile. "Okay. Just give me a minute."

He nodded and left the room. As soon as he was safely out of earshot, he hit his comm badge.

"Chakotay to Torres."

 _Torres here,_ came the almost breathless reply of the harried engineer.

"B'Elanna, I know you're all very busy with repairs in engineering, but I wondered if, whenever you can spare someone, you could send someone to the captain's quarters. There's a small leak in her bathroom."

 _...a leak? You mean, like, something leaking into her bathroom? A gas, or…?_

"No, it's nothing like that. It's . . . her bathtub. You know how she likes to soak to relax, right? Well, it's not very relaxing if there's a steady drip into the tub."

 _Honestly, Chakotay, there are so many more important things here! Why are you asking about that?_

"I know, B'Elanna, but I really think it would be particularly good for the captain. Just, when someone can be spared -"

 _Yeah, right! In three or four days, maybe._

"No, today, please. Seven, if no one else is available. Neelix, even, he's always eager to prove his abilities and how much he's studied the ship's systems."

 _Ugh. I don't know which is more confusing, your fixation on this stupid little leak or the fact that you happen to actually_ know _there's a leak in the captain's tub. What exactly were you doing in there anyway?_

"Stop it, B'El. She and were talking and she mentioned it, that's all. This has been a very stressful day for us all, and she's the captain so you know it's been more stressful to her no matter how stressful things are in engineering right now. So could you _please_ just send someone to fix her tub as soon as you can?" Before B'Elanna could answer he continued with, "Chakotay out."

It was another few seconds before Kathryn emerged from the bathroom, hair looking smoother, with a clean face and smooth hair. He smiled at her and held his arm out for her to take, grateful to see that she did so without hesitation, then he led her out of her quarters and toward sickbay.

=/\=

He'd stayed while the doctor adjusted her medication, then left when she requested to speak with the doctor himself for some rudimentary counseling, rather than to Chakotay. He tried not to be offended, but requested that she let him know when she was done in sickbay.

She did so several hours later. He met her outside her quarters, enjoying the surprised look on her face, and the fact that she looked like she felt much better. "I thought maybe we could have dinner together," he said softly, hoping once again that he wasn't pushing too much. It wasn't even their usual dinner night.

"Oh . . . sure. Wow, is it that time already?"

He nodded. She stared up at him for a moment before he finally asked, "May I come in?"

She started. "Oh! Yes, of course," and keyed in her lock code to open the door. "Though, you know my luck with my replicator," she added ruefully.

"That's okay, tonight's my treat anyway." He crossed to her replicator and ordered up a dinner of steak and salad, hoping that maybe the protein would help her but the salad would be light enough. He wasn't sure how much of an appetite she would have at this point.

While they ate, they laughed and joked about how her replicator behaved so much better for him than for her; talked about literature and science; discussed how the repairs were going. It wasn't until near the end of dessert that he said softly, "You do seem to be feeling much better. But I know how good you are at hiding it too. Are you?"

She smiled softly. "Yes, much. Not all the way. I think I'll be all the way better . . . soon. The hypospray the doctor gave me certainly helped, but with my brain chemistry constantly changing under the stress, of course, it's almost impossible to keep up with it. He wants me in for more regular examinations so he can adjust the hypo accordingly." She made a face and he laughed. She always hated examinations. She preferred to feel herself invincible, but with the dysthymia flaring into full-blown depression more and more often, hopefully she understood that not going to the doctor revealed more vincibilities than going could do.

"I'm glad. I'm glad you're getting help. That shows more strength than not getting help ever could."

She smiled, then stood from the table and headed over to the couch, carrying her remaining half a glass of wine with her. "Come sit with me, Chakotay. I'll clear the dishes up later."

He did so, accompanied by his own wine, and sat near her, but not too close.

She shifted closer, not quite touching him, then sat staring down into her wine glass for a long moment before she spoke again. "Chakotay . . . you said something earlier that I wanted to . . . check about."

He stopped breathing as he looked at her profile. He'd said he loved her. Now that she was feeling better, was she regretting that he'd ever said such a thing?

"You said . . . that you'd kiss me after I was feeling like myself again. And, like I just said, I'm not quite entirely better yet. But I was hoping that you'd believe me that I'm feeling better enough to know . . . ." She leaned forward to set her wine on the coffee table, then looked up into his eyes. "To know that I won't regret this."

Before he'd finished processing her words, her lips were on his, softly but without hesitation. It took a few seconds for him to process what was happening and lean in to kiss her back. One of her hands slid up around his neck while the other rested against his chest. He slid his own arm around her shoulders, but his other hand was still holding his wine.

When he pulled back to look at her, she smiled up at him, happier than she'd been all evening. He leaned forward to set his wine down without breaking their gaze, sat back up, and continued to just stare, drinking in every look from her eyes, every sense, every emotion.

Finally, she spoke again. "Chakotay, if you're going to keep staring at me like that I'm just going to have to assume you're a liar."

He frowned. "What? Why?"

"You said when I was ready you'd kiss me as much as I wanted. That wasn't as much as I wanted yet."

He cupped her face in his hand and leaned toward her again, pausing with his mouth a bare inch from hers. "Technically," he whispered, "I said I'd kiss you as much as you wanted once you were all the way better. You yourself admitted you're not all the way better yet."

"Then we'd better practice for when I am," she whispered back before closing the gap between them once again.


End file.
